


Why You Shouldn't Piss Off a Changeling (aka Dean's A Nipple Humper)

by Furorscribiendi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furorscribiendi/pseuds/Furorscribiendi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one time Dean does the right thing, it comes back to bite him in the ass. Hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masterofmercury](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=masterofmercury).



> masterofmercury mentioned wanting nipple humper!Dean fic. I mulled over it for about a week before ideas popped into my head and I started writing.

Dean was pissed.

When he went to sleep last night, everything had been fine, perfectly fine. When he woke up and all he saw was dull sunlight coming through the bed sheets, he didn’t think anything was wrong. When he tried to pull it from his head and found more of the bed sheet he knew something was definitely wrong.

When he tried to reach under his pillow for the knife, there was no pillow to be found.

It took five minutes of struggling before he finally emerged from under the sheets. When he stopped panting and looked around, it was with shock.

Everything. Was. Big. Massive. Gargantuan. E-fucking-normous.

“Sonuvabitch,” Dean cursed as he looked around. “Why the fuck have I shrunk?” He looked over to where Sam was still sleeping, dead to the world. “Sam! Sam!”

Sam muttered something about dancing penguins, rolled over and went back to sleep. Dean didn’t want to know. He had more pressing issues at the moment.

“Sam!” he called a bit louder. “Sam, wake the fuck up!”

That seemed to do the trick and Sam rolled over, looking bleary and grumpy. “Jesus Dean, why the hell are you…”

Dean scowled as Sam seemed to realise that he couldn’t quite see properly. Sam sat up, rubbed at his eyes and looked at Dean owlishly.

“Dean?” Sam asked after a moment.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Dean acknowledged. “What the –”

The rest of Dean’s words were drowned out by Sam’s snicker. He scowled and Sam burst out laughing, falling back onto the bed.

“Look, are you going to help me or what?” Dean demanded when Sam’s laughter died down.

“Of course,” Sam paused for a moment. “Shortstuff.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Einstein.”

Sam sobered up, his face too wooden. “Okay, did you eat anything strange at the bar last night?”

“I don’t know, jolly asshole giant; we both had chicken wings and beer.” Dean sniped. “How can eating the same chicken wings make me tiny?”

Sam’s face finally became serious. “Well, do you recall anything out of place last night?”

Dean shook his head. “Went in, had some food, flirted a bit, came back here and went to sleep. And then I woke up like this.”

“All right,” Sam began after a moment of thought. “We’ll go back to the bar and see if someone remembers something.”

Dean scowled. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Dean had to give Sam some credit, he really did. Sam’s lip twitched, and then curled up at the corners; if Sam didn’t fight it, it would have been the worst shit-eating grin Dean had ever seen.

“Well, for starters, you could put some clothes on.”

____________________________________

Sam knew he shouldn’t have said it. He really shouldn’t have. But when he woke up to find a naked, Lilliputian version of Dean, it had been hard to resist the jokes. And there were a multitude of them. It took an inhuman amount of willpower to not say one with every sentence.

When Sam had picked up the car keys, Dean had insisted on tagging along as well. Sam had finally agreed but only because he had a sinking feeling that Dean would get into trouble if left alone in the hotel room with nothing to do. It was a long drop from the bed to the floor, and what would seem like miles to the bathroom.

So after cutting a square of cloth from the bed sheet, Sam was now driving back to the bar with a toga clad Dean in his inner jacket pocket.

All in all, this was not how he had envisioned the start of his weekend. Dean moved in his jacket pocket, head popping out a bit.

“Dude, are we almost there?”

“Another five minutes,” Sam answered. “Just sit tight.”

Dean frowned. “It didn’t take this long to get there last night.”

“Well, there also wasn’t traffic last night.” Sam answered evenly.

Dean settled back into the pocket grumbling. Sam didn’t say anything else until he pulled into a parking spot in front the bar and killed the engine.

“Okay, I’ll do all the talking,” Sam began.

“You suck at schmoozing.” Dean interrupted.

“Yeah well, you’re half the size of a doll, and I think some people might take issue with the fact that you’re nearly telling them off.”

“Action figure, all right?”

“What?”

“You said doll; I am not the size of a fucking doll; I’m like… G.I. Joe.”

“G.I. Joe?” Sam could have made at least half a dozen jokes; he really could have.

“Yeah, I’m sorta like the all-American hero; just not in the army and…” Dean trailed off. “Just get in there and find out why I’m like this.”

“Yes sir.” Sam quipped with a small salute.

Dean vanished back into the pocket with some black promises coming from his mouth. Sam knew he shouldn’t find this situation so damned amusing. He really shouldn’t. But he rarely got anything like this to use against Dean. No way was he letting a chance like this go by.

The bar was dark and already smoky when he stepped inside. There were a few patrons scattered throughout. He walked up to the bar and settled down in a seat close to the entrance.

“What can I get you honey?”

Sam looked up, to see the smiling waitress from last night. “Just water thanks.”

“Your brother not with you today?”

“He’s a bit under the weather.”

Sam managed to not laugh when he felt what had to be a kick to the chest. The girl looked puzzled for a moment before she shrugged.

“All right then. Anything else?”

Sam shook his head and she walked back to the door. Dean seemed to be shifting about a lot, so Sam lifted one side of his jacket in pretence of checking for something.

“Dude, you really can’t schmooze.”

Sam stared at him and then let the jacket side fall back in place as the girl came back with a glass of ice and water in hand.

“There you are, a nice tall cold one.” She placed the glass in front of him on a coaster. “You sure that’s everything honey?”

Sam nodded. “Hey, ah…”

“Anisa,” the girl supplied.

“Anisa,” Sam repeated with a quick smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” The girl leaned against the table, looking mildly curious.

“My brother… was he with anyone last night?”

Anisa didn’t say anything for a moment. “Well, he was hitting on anything on two legs with boobs, but that might have been the six beers he had last night.”

Sam nodded his head; the hunt the night before had rattled something in Dean. Dean hadn’t said what, but it had made Dean restless, and hitting on anyone other than Sam. And to add insult to injury, the minute they got back to the motel, Dean fell asleep right in the middle of making out.

“Anything else? Anything else you can think of?”

“Aside from how Rug tried real hard to get into his pants, nothing else really.”

“Rug?”

“Jezebel O’Leary,” Anisa made a face. “Everyone calls her ‘Rug’ though.”

Sam was pretty sure that he didn’t want to know. “Do you know where I can find her?”

“I know she’s got a place down off Portland on Sycamore Avenue, but she might not, er… be there, if you get me?”

“Is there a spot she frequents?”

“The café and here. Other than that, she runs around a lot.” Anisa paused. “Why do you need to talk to Rug? Something happen with her and your brother?”

“… A small problem.” There was a momentary nipping feeling and Sam vaguely wondered if Dean bit him.

“Then don’t go broadcasting that you’re looking for her. I guess she’s made it a habit of vanishing at the sound of trouble; too many wives want her head. Besides you can’t miss her; petite, dark hair, bright blue eyes and sluttiest clothing you’ll ever see.”

“Thanks,” Sam rose from the seat and placed a ten on the table.

Anisa took it and slipped it in her jean pocket. “If you need anything else when you’re in town, you just come back here and let me know.”

Sam nodded as he headed for the door. Once he was back in the car, he started up the car and headed Sycamore Avenue.

”Sammy,” Dean said as he stuck his head out. “You really gotta lay off the cologne.”

“You mean the same cologne you said you _liked_ me wearing?” Sam asked. “Besides, I put on the same amount I always do.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Smells like you bathed in it.”

“That’s just your tiny nose.”

“Yeah, the small jokes are starting to get old really quick, Sammy.”

“Really? That’s some short notice you’re giving me Dean.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Dean shot back.

“Given your current state, I might just have to do that.”

Sam glanced down when Dean fell silent at that. Dean looked far too turned on by that statement. He got into the car and put the key in the ignition. “Okay, so do you remember this Jezebel person?”

Dean shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”

“Well, you did have a lot to drink last night.”

Dean was silent again for a moment before he said, “Are you gonna use the blue one?”

“What?” Sam asked, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“You know the blue one… with the ridges and bumps. The one that makes you scream Sammy.”

Karma, Sam decided, was definitely a grumpy bitch. This had to be its way of getting back at him for enjoying Dean’s unfortunate situation. A less than half a foot tall Dean talking about how Sam was going to screw himself with one of his favourite dildos tonight when they got back to the hotel room… there was so much wrong with that, he didn’t know where to start.

“I want to see you scream and come like a dirty little slut. You gonna do that for me?”

Dean’s tendency for dirty talk when he was turned on… Sam’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter for a moment before he started the car. This was definitely going to be a long day.

____________________________________

Dean didn’t know how Sam managed it. But after twenty minutes of simpering and fawning, Sam was still talking to Jezebel.

When they’d gotten to Sycamore Avenue, it had been easy enough to spot the house, with the mailbox bearing ‘O’Leary’ in stencilled letters.

Sam hadn’t even been out of the car when the front door creaked open and Jezebel stepped out onto the porch. Dean had peered around the zipper of Sam’s jacket, and knew immediately what Anisa had been hinting at. Everything about Jezebel screamed ‘maneater’ and ‘stay the hell away from unless serious complications in life are wanted.’ It didn’t help matters that her name _actually_ was Jezebel.

And he really didn’t like the way she was cozying up to Sam. And attempting to ply him with drinks.

Sam was doing his damnedest to politely maintain his distance, especially with the small talk. There was no need to mention how miserably Sam was failing, judging from the stench of flowers and spices that drowned out the scent of Sam’s cologne.

“So, Jezebel,” the slight discomfort in Sam’s voice was obvious; not that she was picking up on it. “You spent some time with my brother last night?”

“I did,” Jezebel paused for a moment. “He always a tease?”

Dean could feel Sam’s heart pounding away. Dean liked to tease all right; usually when Sam so naked, writhing and so wound up, it was damned near painful. Sam had done it to him enough times for him to know what it was like.

“Not usually, no; he’s a straight forward kind of guy.”

Jezebel made a sceptical sound, but what she said next made Dean want to clamber out and tell her off.

“So… you seeing anyone handsome?”

“No, I’m not,” Sam said firmly. “And my brother isn’t the settling down type.”

“And you?” Jezebel purred.

Sam coughed and straightened his jacket. Dean barely had time to shift before he was pressed flat against Sam’s clothed chest. More specifically, Sam’s nipple.

“It didn’t go too well…” Sam lied.

There was an evasive answer if Dean ever heard one. And damn if Sam’s nipple didn’t feel good against him. He shifted slightly, rubbing his hips against the nub of flesh.

Sam froze for a moment and Dean grinned; he’d never been more thankful for the fact that Sam had sensitive nipples.

“Aw, honey…” Jezebel damn well failed at trying to sound sympathetic; she just sounded predatory, plain and simple.

“Honey my ass,” Dean gasped as he rubbed against Sam’s nipple some more. He angled his hips up so his cock was rubbing right against it flush. “Skank’s trying to get in your pants Sammy.”

Jesus, this should not feel as good as it did. And thank God he was wearing this demented little toga; it meant he didn’t have to fumble with a zipper or buttons. Maybe those Romans had something else right besides exorcising the hell out of demons and the like. He continued rubbing himself against Sam nipple, the words barely filtering into his increasingly lust soaked brain.

“Jezebel, I know this is going to sound odd… and probably offensive.” Sam began.

“S’okay handsome. Shoot.”

“You didn’t do anything to Dean, did you? Something… not normal?”

Jezebel was silent for a moment. “What do you mean not normal?”

“Just… something out of the ordinary?”

“Handsome, I’ve done a lot of things out of the ordinary. Mostly involving whips and chains. You into that?”

Dean so didn’t need that mental image. Sammy shirtless with a whip, leather pants and a smirk on his face… or hands cuffed to the headboard, spread out like some freakin’ carnal buffet. Dean reached underneath the toga to grasp his cock. He almost came when he touched it but managed not to. He could imagine the blush on Sam face, and the way he ducked his head… Dean had seen that before, but in a much, much different scenario.

“No, I mean… something of a supernatural sort.”

“A supernatural sort?” Jezebel echoed.

Dean could see the furrow that Sam’s brow probably had now as he gauged Jezebel’s reaction, those lips pressing together for a moment before parting to speak. What Dean would really like would be for those lips to be around his cock and almost sucking his fucking brains out. He tightened his grip around his cock, trying to not come yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re sounding as weird as my Mama.” Jezebel’s voice lost the purr and took on a dangerous edge.

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Sam asked. “But it really is.”

There was a moment of silence before Jezebel said something. “Get out.”

Dean barely had time to think before Sam stood up and the sound of a door opening and shutting came. And in the time it took to walk from the front door back to the car, Dean was still trying to hump Sam’s nipple. When Sam got into the car and slammed the door shut, it was all Dean needed. The familiar smell of upholstery, of metal… and he could just imagine the look of frustrated anger on Sammy’s face… what Dean wouldn’t give to find a deserted spot and just fuck the frustration out of him.

Dean pressed his hips against Sam’s nipple and got himself off in less than thirty seconds. There were times he didn’t know whether to love or hate his overactive imagination and this was one of those times.

“Damn it Dean,”

Dean went from the shadowy warmth of the pocket into bright sunlight. Sam put him down on the passenger seat, eyes wide with staring. Dean was sure he must have made a sight. The front of his toga rumpled and smeared with come. Oh, and the lazy grin that was on his face.

“You _were_ humping my nipple!” Sam choked out the words in indignant disbelief.

“Yeah,” Dean slid a hand across his belly before he reached down and started playing with his cock. “When she started going on about leather and whips,” he shrugged before a giving a wicked grin. “Well, let’s just say my imagination hasn’t suffered.”

Sam’s mouth opened and closed, but he didn’t stop staring. Dean started stroking himself slowly; sensation was already starting to curl through already sated nerves.

“Do you know how fucking hot you’d look in leather pants and with no shirt on?” Dean drawled. “Make me your bitch; ride me all night long, good and hard.”

“Dean…” Sam’s voice sounded more strangled than anything else.

“’Cause I’ve pretty much made you my bitch, haven’t I Sammy?” Dean watched as Sam’s breathing became more erratic. “You’re so going to screw yourself with that blue dildo when we get back to the motel aren’t you?”

Dean knew he had Sam right where he wanted him… and all he could do was provide the floor show. Sam’s hands fidgeted for a moment before he settled on gripping the steering wheel, hard. Dean continued to go slow, stroking himself and alternating between tweaking a nipple and playing with his balls. Sam’s breathing became increasingly erratic and by the time Dean was ready to come again, Sam’s knuckles were white and had popped.

And when he came and splayed against the seat in repletion, Sam’s entire body was tense. Even when he picked Dean up and put him back in his pocket, his movement seemed jerky, as if there was barely any control behind them.

“I fucking hate you,” Sam ground out as he started up the car. “This is so fucked up; I don’t even know where to start.”

Dean didn’t say anything as Sam gunned the engine and headed back to the motel as fast as possible. All Dean knew was that once they figured out who did this to him, that sonuvabitch was gonna pay dearly.

____________________________________

Sam was near the end of his tether. After Dean’s nipple-humping stunt, he was more turned on than he cared to admit. After Dean’s little show, Sam concentrated on finding out more about Jezebel.

When he went back to the bar, Anisa took one look and then waved him over with a smile and a shake of her head. It didn’t take long to get information about Jezebel’s mom from her.

So now, Sam was just outside of town, about forty miles and deep in the back woods on some pissy muddy dirt road.

And Dean was humping his nipple again. For the fourth time. What Sam wanted now more than anything was for Dean to not be so damn small. Giving him a punch at the moment would have been immensely satisfying.

But no, Dean was small, in his jacket pocket and _still_ humping at his nipple. Stupid little shit was winding him up on purpose.

He could see the worn house at the end of the road, and relief flooded through him. He’d leave Dean in the car and speak with Jezebel’s mom. But as he pulled the car to a stop, he could see someone sitting placidly on the front porch. He didn’t even say anything as he pulled Dean out of his pocket and placed him on the passenger’s seat. Dean was far too satisfied to do much of anything.

But when he got out the car, a voice made him pause.

“Bring your brother in as well,”

Sam paused, unsure if he should even acknowledge that and all it would bring up. But the next words settled it.

“I’ll see what I can do for him.”

It seemed that was all Dean needed to hear. He was getting to his feet and scrambling over to the window. Sam frowned slightly as he reached in and picked up Dean.

“Quit it. I’m serious this time.” Sam ground out.

Dean nodded his head with a contrite expression, but Sam fixed him with a hard look. Dean’s contrition morphed into a smile.

“Not my fault you’re hot stuff Sammy,” Dean said.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

Dean’s smile became a wolfish grin. “What can I say; you blow my socks off.”

Sam elected to make a small sound of disgust and stick Dean in his pocket. He walked to the house, and up to the porch. It was creaky with peeling white paint. A woman with a lined face and white hair was sitting down at a wood patio table, an empty chair across from her. There was a pitcher of lemonade with two large glasses and an impossibly small tea cup. Not to mention the doll sized chair

“Well, you gonna leave your brother in there in the heat?” the woman turned and looked at him. “He might go off again.”

Sam was starting to get more than a bit creeped out by just how much the woman seemed to know. He went over to the spare chair and still sat down. She watched him for a long moment, before she smiled and chuckled.

“The bones and my Sight haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

Sam watched her for a few more seconds before he reached into his pocket and took Dean out. Dean stood there as he shook out his toga so it fell properly.

“Thought I would roast in there,” Dean commented as he strolled over to the chair and sat down.

“Dean Winchester,” the woman clucked her tongue. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Wait,” Sam began. “You know about us?”

“I do. You’re John Winchester’s boys. Granted, when I was hunting, John was a young spit of a thing. Hell, Dean wasn’t even conceived yet.”

Sam didn’t know what to say. Dean, on the other hand, was staring at the woman intently. After a moment, he swore.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dean laughed and shook his head. “You’re Merle ‘Old Mama’ Wague.”

“ _The_ Old Mama Wague?” Sam looked at the woman in front of them in surprise.

“You know another Wague called Old Mama? Once I heard you were in town, I figured it was only a matter of time before you ran into Jezebel. And Dean got himself into some shit. Which meant you’d eventually find your way to Clara.”

“Clara?” Sam echoed.

“Jezebel’s mother,” Merle shifted forward and poured lemonade for them all. “Been dead for nigh on a decade now. Towards the end, Clara started talking about those supernatural sort of things. Jezebel didn’t take a shine to it at all.”

Sam picked up his glass of the chill liquid, watching Merle for a moment. Dean on the hand was watching Merle intently, as if she had all the answers.

“But that’s not the point. Point is Dean here messed up somehow and got himself cursed.”

“The only problem is that we don’t know by what.” Sam added.

“I’m going to reckon that Jezebel is responsible.” Merle stated after a moment. “She’s capable.”

“I know she’s a bit… off,” Sam pointedly ignored Dean’s cough that sounded suspiciously like, ‘Skank.’ “What makes you think it was her?”

Merle didn’t speak for a long moment. “The only thing I noticed was that Clara started cooking larger parts of a meal in one pot. Jezebel really didn’t like that one bit, got downright nasty about it. Next thing I know, Clara’s rushed off to the hospital for third degree burns at the end of the week. Poor girl died from shock.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam murmured.

Merle inhaled deeply for a long moment before she reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “You boys mind?”

Dean shook his head, and Merle had a cigarette between her lips and lit less than a second later. She took a long drag before looking at Dean now.

“You get what I’m talking about boy?”

This had to be the first time Sam had seen Dean let anyone call him ‘boy’ in that tone aside from their father. Dean looked mightily pissed off now, shaking his head.

“Fuck, that’s what tried to get in my pants? I pissed off a fucking changeling?”

“Yup,” Merle gave a grin. “And I bet she left you with a little gift.”

Dean scowled. “What do you mean?”

“Been going off like a rocket there for a while, huh? Must have driven poor Samuel nuts having a horny brother in his pocket.”

That also had to be the first time Sam saw Dean choke on something he was drinking. Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Great, I’m outnumbered.” Dean grumbled.

“Outnumbered?” Sam snickered. “Dean, you’ve been outclassed, plain and simple.”

Dean opted to scowl and mutter to himself. Merle took a quick drag of her cigarette before she knocked some of the ash off into a large hole on the porch.

“She also sent your libido into overdrive when she cursed you. Has he been humping anything in reach much?” Merle paused at that. “Your shirt’s not stained much is it?”

Sam was starting to wonder if Merle had heard of a few things, such as tact and not crossing certain boundaries. But as she kept talking, it quickly became apparent that she didn’t.

“You could always make him sit on a few ice cubes to cool him down.”

The last thing Sam wanted to do was give Dean a literal case of blue balls in this state. He was sure Dean would find the most painfully pleasurable way to make him suffer.

“Okay,” Sam said once he got his laughter under control. “So Dean refused to sleep with this changeling, so she cursed him to become a condensed nymphomaniac?”

Merle’s upper lip twitched a bit. “It’s not so much that she condensed him down… it was more out of spite because that’s what she figured his dick size was.”

Dean was swearing colourfully now, and all Sam could do was laugh. Merle finished off her cigarette before she dropped the butt, ground it out and swept it into the hole with her foot.

“Now,” Merle began slowly, fishing out another cigarette. “You boys in a rush?”

“Not exactly.” Dean said sourly.

Sam really couldn’t blame him for it… but to have this inflicted as punishment because Dean decided to keep it in his pants for once… he was sure it would be a crime to not recognise the irony, and he didn’t want to get any more bad karma… of a sort.

“Good,” Merle emptied out her pockets. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Sam watched as Merle rose and ambled into the house before he looked at Dean. Dean was scowling at his tiny cup of lemonade.

“The _one_ time I do the right thing, and it bites me in the ass so hard…” Dean trailed off.

“Well, if anyone can break this in one go, it’s Merle.” Sam offered.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Dean paused a moment. “What do you think she’s doing out here?”

“Retired? People still talk about Merle Wague, but no one’s seen her in so long. She’s a living legend Dean.”

“Yeah, she also looks like one.”

“Dean.”

“What, just pointing out the obvious,” Dean shifted. “I’m wondering what she’s packing in there.”

“The bones?” Sam eyed the pouch Merle had left behind with her lighter, cigarettes and paper clips. “I wouldn’t touch that.”

Dean gave Sam a look. “Not even I’m that stupid. Just wondering is all.”

“It’s a good thing we bumped into her,” Sam began. “You won’t be small for much longer.”

“Yeah, I know.”

There was nothing confusing about the manner in which Dean was looking at him. It was full of smoky carnal promise. Sam had no illusions about what Dean would do the minute he was tall enough again. But the moment, Dean was a little under half a foot tall and it was damned perverse having him humping nipples and making innuendoes.

“Maybe I should put a show on for you now, Sammy?”

“Are you crazy? Merle’s inside!”

Dean just gave him a filthy grin while slipping his hands under the toga. Sam rolled his eyes and pretended to look elsewhere. Like that tree on the southern side of the property. With a cairn built up and something that looked like an altar at the base of it. Sam would not focus on Dean’s now harsh breath or the rustle of cloth. He wouldn’t focus on that, and Dean probably slouched in the chair, toga hitched up, legs spread wide…

Sam swallowed and gritted his teeth as he heard Dean hiss already. His cock throbbed in response and if Dean wasn’t so damned pint sized, Sam would drag him to the backseat of the Impala and fuck him right into the seat until he was howling with pleasure. It took a lot to get Sam to that point, and Dean seemed to be doing a spectacular job of pushing him to it in record time.

The noises Dean was making were tempting, oh so tempting. Sam didn’t ever think he’d stared so hard a tree. He was starting to wonder vaguely if staring at an immobile object for prolonged periods could cause spontaneous combustion when a creak came from inside the house.

He looked back to find Dean yanking the toga back down and shifting in the seat to make the erection look less obvious. Sam knew he failed by a long shot, and hoped Merle didn’t rib him for it.

Merle came out a moment later, a weird packet in her hands. Sam watched as she placed it on the table and then reached for her pouch. His eyes widened when the oddly shaped bones tumbled into her hands.

“Astragali?” he couldn’t stop himself from saying the word.

“Mm-hm,” Merle nodded her head. “Passed down to me from my père.”

Sam studied the bones in her hands for a moment, noticing odd marks carved into them; they were something he’d never seen before. Dean on the other hand, snorted and shook his head.

“Didn’t think I’d see that ever again.”

Merle looked up at Dean for a moment. “Good eye.”

Sam watched as she cast the bones, a frown coming to her face. She tilted her head before huffing and scooping the bones up and placing them back in their bag. Now she opened the packet she brought, mixing stuff up right in front of them.

By the time she was done, there was a large jar with a thick, gloopy muck inside. Dean was looking at it like it wanted to eat him whole and spit his bones out.

“You aren’t going to make me to drink that, right?” Dean asked weakly.

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” Merle gave a sweet smile, and Dean looked terrified for a moment. “But if you don’t want to live the rest of your life as the world’s shortest nymphomaniac, then you’ll drink it. Besides, I don’t think you could abide going without some tail for much longer.”

Dean scowled and muttered something about Sam making sure the dosage wasn’t fucked up.

“She’s got you down pat Dean.” Sam knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.

“He’ll need to take two tablespoons of this every day,” Merle said. “Give him a month and he should be back to normal size. Bring him back here and I’ll mix up another batch to make it permanent.”

“A month?” Dean asked.

“Sounds about right,” Sam paused. “If Jezebel did this and she finds out what’s happening to you –”

“That girl’ll be madder than a freshly exorcised demon,” Merle finished. “If she does catch on, you boys hightail it back here.”

“We’ve got salt and –” Sam began.

“I _said_ , you boys hightail it back here,” Merle repeated herself. “Take a good look at the deck here and you’ll see why.”

Sam looked down at the peeling paint and the large hole. It took him a bit to finally see the pattern of protective symbols flecked out of the paint. And when he looked up, the underside of the veranda roof had the same thing. And nails large enough to shod a horse’s feet were plainly visible.

“Yeah,” Merle said grimly as Sam looked back at her. “Enough protective symbols and iron to burn any fae thing stupid enough to set foot here. And if Jezebel finds out, you’re gonna need more than rock salt, silver bullets and a damn exorcism ritual.”

“Okay, so we hightail it back here,” Dean paused for a second before he gave an impish grin. “What’s the room service like?”

Merle glowered at him. “You want to stay tiny, boy?”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean knew he shouldn’t wind Sam up so much. But it seemed that every time he came down from the sexual high, it was slowly starting to build back up again.

And it made him hyper aware of everything in fucking ridiculous detail.

Like the way Sam sat, as if ready to spring into action. And how he held his hands, patient and biding his time. The way Sam breathed slow, deep and sure. And seeing that tongue dart out quickly to wet his lips… and none of this really helped the situation.

They’d been back at the motel for a few hours now and Dean had already taken his first dose of the vile liquid. Dean wasn’t even sure the word ‘vile’ did it justice. Something more along the lines of ‘nastiest thing on the face of the planet’ seemed a hell of a lot better.

Sam was sitting on one of the chairs at the table, looking over something. Dean was sitting close by, bored out of his mind and toying with the idea of jerking himself off once more. If he pushed Sam a little bit further…

“Hey Sammy.”

Sam made a vague sound of acknowledgement. Dean was going to ask him something completely innocent. But seeing that determined expression of studiousness gave him other ideas.

“Wanna watch me finger fuck myself?”

For a few seconds, the discordant sound of Sam’s fingers scrabbling against the keyboard in surprise echoed a bit in the room. Dean couldn’t see Sam’s expression but judging from how still he was, Dean knew he was either thinking about it or wondering how to best get away with murder.

After a moment, the clicking of keys came again. Dean grinned as he moved forward into Sam’s field of vision.

“Sammy…” Dean wheedled as his mind is filled with absolutely pornographic images.

“Fuck off. I’m not feeding your libido.” Sam growled.

“Sammy…” Dean tries again.

Sam swore and got up from the table. He went to the kitchenette that came with the room and reached into the freezer for something. Dean couldn’t see what it is, and when Sam came back over he rested it on the floor. Dean wondered what it is for about a moment but then sidled up to Sam’s arm, rubbing himself against it.

“Oh, that’s it.” Sam bit out.

Dean saw Sam reach under the table and the next thing Dean knew, he was sprayed with ice cold water. He bolted back, sputtering and wiping away the cold droplets from his face. When he looked at Sam again, Sam’s holding a frosty spray bottle with an eyebrow arched, is if daring him to say something.

“Did you just spray me?” Dean still can’t quite believe that Sam did that.

“You were about to _hump_ my arm. What’s next? My leg? My _laptop_?”

Dean hadn’t considered that and gave the laptop a speculative look.

“ _Dude, no_!” Sam exclaimed. “If I find come stains on it, I’ll drown you in the toilet or something. But I am not your personal humping post when you feel horny.”

“But I’m cursed Sammy,” Dean tried. “Don’t you want to help your brother out?”

“Not when he’s acting like he’s in heat, I don’t.” Sam picked him up and carried him over to the bed. “Do whatever the hell you want but leave me out of it. I’m trying to keep you alive long enough so you can get back to your normal height. And for the record, you’re still less than half a foot tall.”

Dean watched as Sam stomped back over to his laptop and continued working. Well, this sucked. Now he was horny, stuck alone on the bed and he didn’t even have lube. Fine, two could play at this game.

____________________________________

Something wasn’t right. Sam woke up half asleep, and far too turned on, trying to figure out what it was. When he looked down, it all made sense.

Dean was naked and wrapped around his cock. Though, in all actuality, all Sam could see was his hair, hands and feet. And it was down right disturbing, and shit Dean was licking at that spot right under the head and fuck, fuck, fuck.

Sam’s orgasm stole over him quickly, leaving him breathless and grinding the heels of his feet against the mattress. When his body finally relaxed, he registered the sound of Dean’s heavy breathing.

He was gonna kill the little fucker.

He sat up, intent on chewing out Dean.

Dean was sprawled against his thigh, looking dazed and content. Oh, and he was covered head to toe in Sam’s come. He looked like he should be on a porn set, and not on Sam’s thigh. When Dean looked at him and gave a lazy smile, Sam felt a sharp pang of desire and his cock twitched in response.

“You want to go another round?” Dean’s smile became wolfish.

The response of, _‘I don’t know whether to fuck you or kill you’_ ran through Sam’s head before he bit out, “You. Fucking. Molested. Me.”

“What did you want me to do? Go through another day of blue balls?”

Sam scowled at him. “What?”

“It doesn’t work if I just try to jack off by myself,” Dean snorted. “Did you really think I was scrubbing myself from head to toe when you left me to bathe in the sink?”

“What do you mean it doesn’t work?” Sam asked as he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t get off unless you’re involved,’ Dean licked his lips. “And it helped that you picked tonight to sleep naked.”

Sam ignored everything else Dean said. “You mean I _have_ to be your personal humping post until this is over?”

“Unless you want to go through this every few days…” Dean trailed off.

“You looking like you’re in a bukkake film?” Sam muttered under his breath.

“What kind of cake?” Dean asked.

“Nothing,” Sam ground out. “You touch me again without my permission and that changeling is the last thing you’ll need to worry about, got it?”

Dean nodded, looking abashed, but Sam didn’t buy it for a second. It really didn’t help that all he wanted to do was fuck Dean senseless and he couldn’t even do that. But Dean was having the time of his damn life, the curse aside.

Sam got out of bed, picked Dean up and walked to the bathroom. He wiped himself off with a washcloth before tossing it in the bathtub. He filled up the sink, dumped Dean in and took the length of rope off the towel rack and tied it to the tap.

“You can get yourself to bed.” Sam said before he left the bathroom.

He stopped long enough to pull on his boxers and jeans before crawling back into bed. After a moment of laying there and listening to Dean bathe himself, he pulled the covers up to his neck. Not even his goddamn nipples were safe. The last thing he needed was to wake up and find Dean humping one of them again.

Sam sighed. This was gonna be one long curse.

____________________________________

The last two and a half weeks had been nothing but tense and awkward. The only plus Dean saw in all of this was that he was growing. Sam saw to it that he took two tablespoons of that nasty ass shit every day.

And while he felt like some rubber band being stretched to the limit every day, he was growing. At the moment, he was three feet tall and had another three to go. Two inches a day was good, if only it didn’t leave you sore half the damn time.

Add in the fact that he was horny all the damn time, and Sam trying to not look aroused when Dean came to him for a handjob or something was starting to grate on his nerves. It was like the curse was working double time to make him miserable to some degree before it was eradicated completely.

Dean was all for finding the changeling and teaching it a thing or two. If there wasn’t a good chance that the thing would laugh it’s ass off at him now, he’d go right now and introduce it to some holy water and iron slugs.

Sam was sitting at the table, looking at something on his laptop. For the moment, Dean wasn’t as horny as he possibly could be. He should go over and talk to Sam, lay out some game plan for when the changeling came after them.

“Dean, you remember how to perform a baptism?”

Dean looked up from the bible he was reading for the thirty-fifth time. “A baptism?”

“Baptism is supposed to prevent changelings. So if we hit it with some iron buck shot and then baptise it…”

“Just might reveal itself. What if the little fucker still doesn’t talk?”

“Then we need to trick it out of it,” Sam paused. “You’ll have to do that.”

Dean wasn’t an idiot; Sam was studying the laptop screen far too intently. “What the hell are you planning?”

“The changeling cursed you to be horny all the time because you rejected her, so maybe–” Sam started.

“You _want_ me to get freaky with that thing?” Dean stared at Sam.

“You got a better idea of getting this thing to talk?” Sam demanded.

“Yeah, tie it up and wave a gun loaded with iron buck shot in its face,” Dean snapped. “If you expect me to do anything with that creature that made me like this, you need to come up with a new plan.”

“Well, that’s all I’ve got, so–”

A loud knock on the door made them both stop. Dean went to the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack to hear what’s going on. Sam put some of the obvious things away like weapons and ammo. Dean went to the toilet and pulls out a handgun from behind, the one loaded with silver bullets. Probably enough to irritate a changeling and temporarily slow them down. Enough time to grab the important things and hightail it down to Merle’s.

The knock sounded on the door, more insistent, and Sam hollered, “Coming!” Dean adjusted his grip on the gun butt as Sam opened the door.

”Jesus, you’re a tough one to track down,”

Dean frowned at the sound of Anisa’s voice; what the hell was she doing here?

“Anisa, is something wrong?” Sam asked as he closed the door.

“Oh, you’d better believe it honey. Rug’s looking for your brother. My suggestion is to hightail it out of town.”

“Wait, as in right now?”

“No, as in the past week. She’s been prowling down at the pub, but no one’s seen you guys for the past three weeks. Everyone figures you’ve skipped town. She’s convinced you’re still here though. And it’s only a matter of time before someone says that you’re holed up here.”

“So how did you get those scars?”

“That fucking cunt went wild when I said I didn’t know where you and your brother were. I swear if she gave me herpes or some other nasty ass disease on my face, I’ll break her fucking hands.”

“I kind of doubt that’s possible,” Sam paused for a moment. “Sit down, and I’ll fix you up.”

“Thanks,” Anisa muttered.

The creak of the bed settling came now, and Dean swore softly to himself. Except now, the bed groaned as someone got up and walked over to the bathroom. He didn’t even have time to hide, since the door was slammed open, squishing him against the wall. Anisa appeared around the door, looking at him incredulously.

“Dean Winchester?”

Dean inhaled, trying to get his breath back. “Nice to see you too Anisa.”

Anisa scowled at him before she hauled him up. After a moment, she slapped him. Dean so didn’t need this.

“What the hell was that for?”

“That’s for you trying to get your grabby hands in my pants when I was bringing you your beers, you asshole.”

Dean came out of the bathroom, rubbing his jaw. Sam was at the table arranging stuff, looking far too amused.

“Bitch.” Dean grumbled as he sat on the bed.

“Jerk,” Sam answered back. “Okay Anisa, have a seat.”

Dean watched as Anisa sat at the table and Sam cleaned up her scratched and gouged face. She hissed when the disinfectant hit the really deep wounds but sat there quietly for the most part. When Sam was done, she did look a bit odd with taped patches of gauze on her face. She looked spitting mad. Dean had seen that look one too many times to not recognise it for what it was.

Sam was packing away their kit when Dean slid off the bed and walked over to her. “What’s your beef with her?”

Anisa’s face tightened. “My business that’s what.”

Dean looked over at Sam; there was a speculative look on Sam’s face and Dean knew what was coming next.

“No we can’t –”

“We can’t leave her; if Jezebel gets her hands on her again –”

“Looks like she can fend for herself.”

“Yeah, but only for so long before she gets really pissed off and does who knows what.”

“I’d like to know what the fuck you two are talking about in regards to me!” Anisa snapped. “Don’t you think I should have some input before both of your brains get overridden with testosterone?!”

Dean made a sound, and started grabbing their things from the room and packing them up. Sam sat down at the table and started talking to Anisa. But their conversation was interrupted yet again. This time the door was kicked in and one pissed off Jezebel stood in the doorway.

Jezebel’s face was contorted with rage and looked distinctly inhuman. Dean was starting to get the feeling that this was going to be one of those hunts that would just be a bitch to see through to the end.

Anisa ducked for cover as Sam moved to aim something at her, but Jezebel moved with a blur and next thing Dean knew Sam was flung into the kitchenette with a nasty sounding thump. He scowled and cocked the gun, aiming right at her.

Jezebel moved again, and now she was in front of Dean, knocking the gun from his hand and grabbing him by the throat. She snarled as she lifted him up, slowly cutting off his air.

“That anyway to greet a lady?” Jezebel purred sarcastically.

“Eat lead you fucking cunt.”

Dean barely had time to register the rapid succession of gunshots before Jezebel dropped to the floor, a hair-raising howl of pain echoing in the room. He hit the ground hard, wheezing.

“Holy water… bag.” He managed

Anisa didn’t waste time, scrabbling through the bag until she found what she was looking for. She fought with the top as she strode over to Jezebel.

“You’ll pay for this wench.” Jezebel hissed venomously.

Anisa’s face contorted now as she kicked Jezebel viciously in the stomach. And before Jezebel could do anything, Anisa stepped around and delivered another kick to her back. Jezebel stretched out, trying to escape the blows. And then Anisa did something not even Dean was expecting.

“Well, guess what,” Anisa snarled as she straddled Jezebel, pinning the flailing scratching arms in place with her thighs. “That’s not happening anytime soon,” she pinched Jezebel’s nose hard. “So why don’t you just have a drink and shut the fuck up?”

Anisa dumped the contents of the bottle in Jezebel’s mouth and viciously shut it before clamping her hand over it. Jezebel was thrashing now, the high-pitched wailing muffled by the forcibly closed mouth. Anisa was bucked off, and Jezebel managed to get to her feet. Dean scrambled to his feet, grabbing the lamp to attack with. Only Jezebel managed to run right into a wall and collapsed to the ground.

Dean stared in disbelief for a moment, lowering the lamp slowly. Anisa got to her feet now breathing heavily.

“Did she just –” Anisa began.

“Yeah.” Dean said as he went to check Jezebel.

Yup, that holy water Anisa poured down her throat did the trick of just knocking her out. Not to mention running into a wall. He could see the shallow breaths she was taking and how her nostrils flared slightly. It was only a matter of time before she was back up.

“We need to get moving.” Dean grabbed the bag, zipped it shut and went to the kitchenette to check on Sam.

Anisa was already there, a frown on her face. “He’s unconscious. Something caught him on the head.”

Dean glanced down and sure enough there was a nasty bump close to Sam’s temple. Fan-fucking-tastic. He was three feet tall, had one woman who was inexperienced as hell to help him out and soon to be one supremely pissed off changeling right on his heels in a few hours or less.

Seemed like a snowball might’ve had a better chance of getting out of hell completely intact.

“Can you get him to the car?” Dean asked, crouching beside Sam and getting the car keys from his pocket.

“Yeah. You have a plan?”

“Gonna drive us to some place we can hole up.” Dean answered.

Anisa gave him a funny look as she slung Sam’s arm over her shoulder and hauled his limp form up as best she could. “And you’re planning on driving how exactly?”

Dean scowled as Anisa looked over him critically. Right, as he was currently three feet and about the height of a nine year old, there’d be a lot of trouble trying to drive. Namely not quite seeing over the dashboard.

“I’m going to ram iron pellets down that fucking thing’s throat when I can.” Dean grumbled.

“I say we get the hell out of here first,” Anisa grunted as she started for the door. “And then plot revenge.”

Dean couldn’t agree more. They quickly got outside, and once Anisa got Sam into the back and buckled up, she walked to the driver’s side and looked down at him expectantly. He just looked back at her. Finally she snorted in irritation.

“Sure we’ll stand around here and wait for that thing to wake up. I don’t mind being torn apart. But if you survive, I’ll come back and haunt your sorry ass.”

Dean grumbled and tossed her the keys. He stomped over to the passenger side and got in, trying to not think that it’s wasn’t either him or Sam driving. If she made one disparaging comment about his baby…

Anisa got in, buckled up and started the engine. She kept one hand on the wheel as she put the car in reverse and floored it. The Impala jumped back out of the parking spot, and just as seamlessly, Anisa spun the wheel while changing to drive. The Impala shot out the parking lot and tore down the road with a roar.

“At least you can drive.” Dean finally said as they went through town.

“At least you’ve got good taste in cars, and you keep her running smooth,” Anisa replied. “So where are we heading?”

“You know Merle Wague?” Dean asked.

Anisa nodded her head. “Okay. Now, I’ve got another question for you: exactly what the fuck is Jezebel O’Leary?”

“What do you think she is?” Dean asked cautiously.

“I think after what I just saw with my own two eyes back there, you better not start beating around the fucking bush with me.” Anisa snapped. “She’s not human, that’s for damn sure, and if you give me some sugar coated version it’s not gonna be pretty.”

Dean snorted; since she put it that way… “She’s a changeling.”

Anisa gave a harsh bark of laughter before she shook her head. “Well fuck… I thought she was a succubus or something with how much she was spreading her legs and how the men flocked to her.”

“Wait, you know about all of this?” Dean looked at her incredulously.

Anisa arched an eyebrow as she glanced at him. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘this’, but I’m not going to ignore what I’ve consistently seen with my own two damned eyes.”

Silence filled the car now as Dean just stared at Anisa. Just who was she? She came to the conclusion that Jezebel was a succubus, but didn’t know a thing about hunting? How the hell did that work?

“Alright, will you stop looking at me like that?” Anisa snapped a few minutes later before she muttered, “Just fucking freaky, that’s what it is.”

“How’d you learn about succubi and the like?” Dean asked.

“Went to university, got classically trained. Dropped out in my last year to run an auto restoration place,” Anisa shrugged before she finished off grimly, “But life never goes the way you want it to.”

“Got something to do with your beef with Jezebel?”

Dean hit something, since Anisa’s jaw tightened and her fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Yeah, when that cunt slept with my fiancé and screwed with his head, saying she loved him and that he should leave me to be with her. He did, and she drained him dry until there was nothing left of him.”

“Damn, she’s a golddiggin’ changeling.”

“No, you fucktard, she drained him dry, literally. According to the coroner’s report, he died of dehydration. I guess she drained him dry during sex and then left his body in a cow field to be found.” Anisa didn’t say anything for a moment. “And the only thing that does anything remotely like that…”

“Is a succubus.” Dean finished.

“Exactly. And it fit with the behaviour patterns,” Anisa paused. “At the moment, I just really want to make that damn thing suffer and get vengeance. And yes I know, an eye for an eye and the world is blind, but I’d rather be blind and content than have my sight and this eating away at me.”

There was a defiant tone to Anisa’s voice, as if daring him to contradict her. He wasn’t that stupid. “I was gonna offer to let you pump her full of iron buck shot.”

“Oh.”

Clearly Anisa hadn’t been expecting that and seemed flustered a bit. The rest of the trip was silent. Even when they got to Merle’s place and Anisa killed the engine, they didn’t speak. Anisa tossed Dean the keys when they got out, before she pulled Sam from the back. Dean watched for a bit before he walked up the steps. The front door opened and Merle was holding it open for them. He walked in and Anisa grunted in thanks. Once Sam was settled on the couch, Merle broke the silence.

“Guess Jezebel came looking for your ass?” she asked, settling herself on a single chair.

Dean nodded. “And she was pissed right off. We’re lucky Anisa was there.”

Merle nodded her head. “She’s a good shot. All that deer hunting with her père,” she sighed and rubbed at her forehead before she reached in her pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. “Now, I want to know exactly what happened. Everything.”

Dean didn’t wait for Anisa to say anything, he just started speaking. He kept it short and brief, but left nothing out. When he got to the part with what Anisa did, Merle just flicked her a look but didn’t say anything. Once Dean finished, Merle shook her head while taking a slow drag.

“All right then. You still have the stuff I gave you?” she asked, looking at Dean.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Drink it all.”

Dean stared at her before repeating, “All of it?”

Merle nodded her head. “You know we’re gonna have one very pissed off Jezebel here by tomorrow night, and I think it’s safe to say the gloves are off. Do you want to face her when you’re still like this or when you’re at full height?”

Dean made a disgusted face as he dug in the bag and pulled out the bottle. It was half gone, and soon the rest had made its way down his throat. Once he swallowed the last of it, he shuddered and gagged on the aftertaste. Merle seemed satisfied though.

“Then I’ll give you some painkillers and you should try to sleep.” Merle said. “You’ve got a lot of growing to do and you’ll be sore as hell in the morning.”

Dean nodded as he glanced at Sam’s unconscious form. Merle snorted.

“Don’t worry. Anisa and I’ll keep an eye on the both of you. Now c’mon; let’s get you comfortable and as drugged up as possible.”

“Might be best if they’re in the same room,” Anisa finally spoke. “If Jezebel does some crack-brained thing, they’ll both be in one place.”

“Then I hope you know how to make a pallet,” Merle said as she finished her cigarette and ground out the butt in an ashtray. “I’ll go get sheets and blankets.”

Merle left the room, and Dean could hear the sound of her footsteps creaking up the stairs. Anisa was pushing the coffee table out of the way and making a space for him.

“Lunch, my treat.” Dean said suddenly.

Anisa looked at him for a moment before she grinned. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Anisa shrugged but nodded her head in agreement. “How do you like your bed?”

“I don’t care, so long as I can sleep on it.”

“Great; less work for me.”

Dean started to say something but stopped as he heard Merle coming down the stairs again. She had a pile of sheets and blankets in one hand and two small bottles of something in the other. Anisa took the sheets from her and set about making a pallet. Dean was eyeing that other bottle though.

“Take two now, and two every four hours for the pain if you need to,” Merle said, holding up the unmarked prescription bottle. “Nothing more, nothing less. Last thing we need is you getting hooked on codeine.”

“What the hell is in that bottle?” Dean asked.

“Tylenol 3, it’s all I’ve got so I hope to hell it works,” Merle held up the next bottle. “Drink this when you wake up in the morning. It’ll completely counteract the curse.”

Dean took the bottle, still looking at it. “I don’t want to know what’s in it, do I?”

“Aside from the iron, no, you don’t.” Merle paused and grinned. “Unless you like eating –”

“No,” Dean said loudly. “Really don’t want to know.”

And with that he took two pills as instructed, went over to his pallet and got comfortable. Anisa and Merle were standing in the doorway watching him. He glared at them and after a moment Merle snorted and turned away.

“C’mon, we’ll get a bite to eat and work out shifts,”

Merle was walking down the hallway, and Anisa looked between him and Sam once more before she followed. And Dean’s heard Merle say clearly,

“Besides, we’ve got some things to discuss Miss Baker.”

____________________________________

Sam felt like he’s survived a truck running over him. The last thing he remembered was Jezebel in the doorway, snarling something in what had to be Gaelic, and he was flung into the kitchen. He must have hit his head on something, because it throbbed and his mouth felt dry.

“Dean?” He managed; his tongue felt thick and slow.

“Lay back down before you make yourself sick.”

Sam blinked as he relaxed back. The room was coming into clear view now, though it was a bit shadowy with the low light coming in from the windows. And it was not the motel room. He waited a bit longer before he slowly sat up again. The room looked worn but comfortable with a TV and a few chairs. The coffee table was close to the TV and when he looked on the ground, he saw Dean sleeping there. Dean was also close to his original height. He looked over to the single chair to see Merle sitting there, filling up shotgun shells.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“Jezebel,” Merle said as she put the shell aside and handed him a glass of water he hadn’t noticed. “She took you out first and went right for Dean. You’re lucky Anisa was there.”

Sam drained the glass in one go. “How is she?”

“Royally pissed and ready for some blood,” Merle shrugged. “That’s to be expected given the history between her and Jezebel.”

“And Dean?”

Merle didn’t say anything. Silence filled the room as he waited for a response. After a minute, he heard a strange sound, like cloth rubbing against cloth. He looked around for a moment in puzzlement before he looked back at Merle.

“He’s growing.” Merle said after a moment. “He needs about another hour or so to grow. And then he’s done. He just had some painkillers, so he’s out like a light.”

Sam nodded his head. “What time is –”

The crack of a gunshot made him jump slightly and reach for the gun in the back of his pants. He wasn’t very comforted to find it wasn’t there. Merle was out her seat and already heading down the hallway. She was back a moment later, Anisa by her side holing a shotgun.

“She’s definitely out there, waiting for one of us to come out,” Anisa said. “I got her though, so she’ll be off licking her wounds until tonight. Didn’t expect her to show up so early in the morning. It’s not even seven yet for Christ’s sake.”

“Seven in the morning?” Sam interrupts.

Anisa turns to look at him, resting the barrel of the shotgun on her shoulder. “That it is. Got something of yours.”

She reached behind her and pulled out his Beretta. He took it, checked it and slipped it back into its usual spot. Merle made a sound of disgust.

“Kids nowadays. I’m surprised one of you hasn’t blown off an ass cheek,” Merle headed back down the hallway calling out, “I’ll fix some breakfast. You stay there Sam. Anisa…”

Sam sat back down on the couch, looking at Dean. After a few minutes, he rose from the couch. He really needed something else to drink. He walked down the hallway, but stopped short of the kitchen when he heard Merle and Anisa’s muted voices.

“You got her good.” Merle said as she stirred something.

There was silence for a moment before Anisa replied. “She’ll be put out of her misery tonight. So… Dean and Samuel really do this for a living, huh?”

“Yes Dean and _Sam_ do. Don’t go calling him Samuel. Word is he doesn’t like that.”

“Why not?”

“Damned if I know,” there was silence for a moment again before Merle said, “And no, I don’t think they came looking for a hunt here. My guess is that they investigated the deaths up in Auxvasse.”

“The animal maulings? Yeah, something was off about that. It happened too regularly at regular times for it to be random maulings. Thought about going up to see, but decided not to.”

“You and your perverse sense of curiosity. You wanted to keep an eye on Jezebel, didn’t you?”

“Well, I don’t see anybody else volunteering,” Anisa paused. “Maybe all this happening is a sign.”

“A sign?” Merle echoed.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in this little town serving booze. I could crisscross the country and make a difference,” Anisa paused. “Besides, what other profession would make good use of Latin, ancient Greek and Gaelic? And I’m a damn good shot.”

“It’s not some glamour job,” Merle’s voice was hard. “It’s bloody, it’s messy and you’re killing things. You’ve got to watch out for cops, for people who might tattle and you’re alone. Unless you’ve got someone as skilled as you, it’s best to do it solo. You think you’re cut out for that kind of life?”

“…I don’t know yet. But I didn’t have any trouble shooting Jezebel back in the motel room.”

Merle snorted. “What you should do is open that auto –”

“No. I went to that garage and I was a mess. I’m not setting foot back in that place if I can avoid it.”

“I think you’re avoiding the issue.”

“Yeah, well…”

The silence was awkward and tense, and Sam chose that moment to step forward and look as innocent as possible. “Hey, I was wondering if I could get another drink of water.”

“Sure. Tap’s over there.” Merle said, gesturing to the sink.

Sam went over to the sink, filled his glass and drank it dry once more. He left the glass in the sink before leaving the kitchen. Considering the tense atmosphere and the fact that he wasn’t supposed to hear that conversation in all likelihood, he didn’t stick around in there longer than necessary.

When he got back to the living room and settled himself down the couch, he only had a minute to himself before he heard the scrape of a chair and steps coming to the living room. A few moments later, Anisa came and leaned against the entranceway jamb.

“So,” she said slowly. “Feeling okay I guess?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam shifted, resting his elbows on his knees. “You?”

Anisa gave a vague shrug. “So, what are you and Dean going to do about this changeling?”

“Haven’t figured that part out yet,” Sam admitted. “Probably baptise her.

“Anything I can do to help?”

That surprised Sam. Anisa had probably been lucky back at the motel, but that didn’t make up for training. “Stay in the house, out of our way. We’re –”

“Trained professionals and know what we’re doing. Yeah, I’ve heard that spiel a lot. I just don’t like sitting around and being useless.” Anisa paused for a moment. “Most changelings go back once they’ve revealed themselves. But I don’t think Jezebel will fall for that one. And what’s gonna happen to the person when she’s gone back?”

“Well, we can’t hurt her. The legends are rather clear on that one; if we hurt her bad, then the person will come back with the same injury.” Sam lapsed into thought for a moment. “The best plan is to baptise her and get a confession from her.”

“I could stop her from bolting.” Anisa offered. “The moment she gets a whiff of something wrong, she’ll bolt. She’s caused enough trouble to know the smell of it.”

“Then we’ll have to lure her here,” Sam glanced at Dean, wishing there was some other plan Dean wouldn’t vocally oppose.

“We know she wants Dean…” Anisa finished.

“Hey, you two!” Merle hollered from the kitchen. “Breakfast!”

Sam glanced at Dean before he stood up. Anisa was already down the hallway. All Sam could wonder about was how pissed off Dean would be when he woke up.

____________________________________

Dean was starting think that if there was some higher power up there, he needed to do some serious ass-kissing to get back in its good graces.

How else could he possibly explain sitting out here, all… _tarted_ up and watching the sunset. When he had woken up sometime in the afternoon, he’d immediately chugged the last bottle, and went to find Sam. Sam, Merle and Anisa were in the kitchen talking animatedly when he came in and took a seat.

It should be noted that Dean was all for the plan – it was a good, solid plan – up until the part when Merle got to him being bait. It didn’t help that Anisa had said was, ‘You don’t have to like it; you just have to do it’ and Sam had nodded his head with a resigned look.

Dean hadn’t liked it one bit. He’d tried talking his way out of it. And then he just got stubborn and belligerent, until Merle yanked up him short. It also didn’t help that after an hour of sitting beside Sam at the kitchen table, he was horny as hell again. Merle and Anisa carried most of the conversation, with Sam adding a few things in here and there. Dean remained silent in protest, but knew he’d have no damn choice when he got to it. When Merle finally told Anisa she wanted to show her something upstairs, Dean inwardly cheered. He didn’t move until he heard them start up the stairs.

He started turning to say something to Sam when Sam’s hand grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Dean was sure he cut his lip on a tooth, but Jesus, he didn’t fucking care. Sam’s hand went below the table, palming Dean’s cock through the denim. Dean swore as he thumped a free hand on the table and moved his other hand to Sam’s head, fingers grasping at the brown hair.

“There are times, I fucking hate you,” Sam had muttered as he slid his other hand down to undo Dean’s belt buckle. “And other times when all I want to do is fuck you good and hard.”

Dean was all for where this was heading. He pushed his chair from the table and Sam fell to his knees, freeing Dean’s cock a moment later. When Sam went down on him, right to the base, Dean had to bite on his lip hard to not start swearing. Sam wasn’t showing him any mercy, just licking, sucking and nibbling in all the right places one after another. Dean had no idea how much time had passed, but he was sure it must have been ridiculously short amount and it seemed like he was coming only a moment later, Sam’s tongue still stroking the head.

And when Sam pulled off, he kissed Dean again before murmuring into his ear, “You want to know what I’m going to do when I get you alone?”

“What?” Dean asked, his voice a rasp.

Sam was stroking his cock, and it was quickly paying attention once more. Dean thrust his hips up against Sam’s hand wishing he could just get his hands on Sam’s skin. He settled for sliding his hands over Sam’s shoulders. Sam’s was kissing his way down Dean’s neck and chest and Dean was arching up against those lips when possible.

“I’m going to make you fuck yourself with that blue dildo,” Sam murmured.

Dean was hard again, and it hurt a bit but he wanted Sam to keep talking. He watched as Sam went lower, reaching his now hard cock once more.

“I want to see you scream and come like a dirty little slut. _My_ dirty little slut. You gonna do that for me?”

“Yeah.” Dean gasped, feeling Sam’s humid breath curl over his cock.

And then Sam’s mouth was back on his cock, sucking hard, while his fingers rubbed against Dean’s perineum hard. His fingers dug into Sam’s shoulders, gritting his teeth as he came once more, feeling as if he was slowly falling to pieces from the fresh rush of sensation through already sensitised nerves. When he slouched into chair, breathing hard and trying to think straight, Sam tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up. Then he cradled Dean’s face in his hands and kissed him once more.

“After all this…”

Dean knew a promise when he heard one, but his body was too sated for once to feel anything more than mild interest.

Of course then Sam had gone and stabbed him in the back by saying he really should be the tarted up bait.

And Anisa seemed to have a very definitive idea of what Jezebel looked for in a tarted up male. Namely jeans that were barely on his hips, a shirt that was just a touch to short and exposed a flash of stomach if he raised his arms to shoulder length, mussed up hair, and lips that looked like they were just kissed.

Then they’d plunked him on the front lawn in a chair and told him to wait. The only thing he could carry on him were a pair of iron knives, holstered on his calves. No gun or anything else. He felt a bit too exposed. And to think he had to fight like this. He would have to make damned sure he didn’t get a gut wound.

And they were rapidly losing light. Anisa would need as much light as possible in order to sneak around to his flank and stop Jezebel from escaping once she was here. He needed to lure her out and now.

“I’m so going to kill you Sammy.” Dean muttered as he rubbed his palms on his thighs. Maybe if Jezebel thought the show would start without her…

There was a rustle in the grass, and Dean didn’t look over, continuing to rub his palms against his thighs. When he looked up a few minutes later, Jezebel was slinking towards him on all fours across the grassy ground. Shit, that cut down on Anisa’s shot a lot. When Jezebel reached him and her hands slid over the top of his feet and up his shins, he did his best to not snarl and pull out the knives on her.

“You, good sir,” Jezebel said in a quiet voice. “Have been vexing me for the past month.”

Dean so wasn’t in the mood to play with her seemingly coy attitude, but he needed to get her in closer and make sure she wouldn’t be bolting anytime soon. Merle had probably sent Anisa out to circle around by now, so Dean had to keep Jezebel’s full attention.

“Sorry about that,” Dean said. “My little brother’s a bit overprotective.”

If Sam could have heard that, Dean knew he’d have one hell of a pissy expression on his face. Jezebel seemed to accept it and moved up onto the chair, settling herself between Dean’s legs. She looked a bit harried and gaunt, but there was an avid gleam in her eye and Dean knew he had her. He forced himself to run his hands over her arms, down her back to her ass and legs. Jezebel made a pleased sound and nuzzled against his chest.

“I want you baby.” Jezebel purred.

Dean leaned in a bit more, whispering in her ear, “Turn around.”

Jezebel squirmed and Dean let his hands come to rest at his ankles, seemingly patient. Jezebel arched, rubbing her ass into his lap. Dean tried to not make a bored sound. There was a flash of movement from the corner of his eye and he knew Anisa was in place. About damn time. He really didn’t want Anisa to do anything here, but he and Sammy would have their hands full with a baptism. With Merle in no condition to really step in, that left Anisa.

“Do you want this?”

Dean chuckled at Jezebel’s question and straightened back up a bit, the knives concealed in his hands. “Oh I want you,”

Jezebel made a pleased, triumphant sound and Dean struck. One knife went right for her throat while the next found a home in the fleshy outer part of her thigh. Jezebel howled in pain and rage, but Dean snapped an arm across her chest and pinned her in place.

What Dean didn’t expect was for Jezebel to crack her head back against his. Stars exploded in his vision and it took a few seconds for him to see Jezebel awkwardly get off the chair and lurch for the high grass to hide herself once more. But the report of a shot echoed. Dean got to his feet, vision returning. Anisa had stood up and had a rifle in her hands and trained on Jezebel. And Sam was right beside her, with a bible in one hand a large bottle of holy water in the other.

“One more step and I _will_ shoot.” Anisa’s voice was flat and hard.

Jezebel gave a snort of laughter and then she was moving. Dean darted forward to intercept her. He wasn’t expecting Jezebel to aim a punch right for his gut. He blocked it, but her other hand went right for his throat. He managed to grab her wrist, and before she could do anything, cracked his head against hers. Jezebel didn’t look fazed at all, but she looked more pissed off than anything else.

Then he saw Anisa come up calmly, turning the rifle around so she had the butt in her hands. It hit Jezebel in the back of the head hard and seemed to stun her slightly. Dean didn’t waste a moment, kicking at Jezebel’s feet and knocking her to the ground. She didn’t seem fazed, but Sam had straddled her, while opening the bottle and pinning her to the ground.

Jezebel’s face was changing as she tried more furiously to buck Sam off her. Her face was elongating, becoming almost cat-like and wilder. Her eyes gleamed red and she was muttering something under her breath. But then she thrashed again, nearly throwning Sam off, and Dean sat on her legs to immobilise her further. Then the sound of the rifle being cocked came and Jezebel went still. He peered around Sam to see that Anisa had pressed the barrel right against Jezebel’s forehead. Yeah, that could do wonders to make someone stop trying to escape. But her lips were pulled back in a snarl and when Dean saw those fangs, he was glad she hadn’t gotten her mouth anywhere near his neck.

“In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti –” Sam began.

“Leòir! Teich a mi!”

Dean suddenly felt a compulsion to leave Jezebel, hop in the Impala and never come back to this town again. Sam was still performing the baptism, but he seemed to have some trouble getting the words out.

“Crìosdaidh.” Anisa said quietly.

Well damn… Dean had never seen anything recoil so damn much from a word aside from ‘Christo’. Sam splashed some water on his thumb and Jezebel started fighting again, despite the gun barrel. Sam grabbed her chin, keeping her head as still as possible while he drew the sign of the cross on Jezebel’s forehead.

And she shrieked. It was almost as bad as that one time Dean heard a banshee when he was on the road by himself. That same pressure, the feeling that his eardrums were about to burst from the pitch…

But then the fight seemed to go out of her and the scream died. Dean was getting more and more puzzled by this by the second. He peered down, seeing Jezebel’s hand lying on the dirt. There was something on the underside of her wrist.

“Sammy, check her wrist.” Dean said.

“Dean, I’m kinda in the middle of something.” Sam snapped.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Anisa.”

Sam kept on with the baptism, getting mainly gibberish from Jezebel now. Anisa shifted, toeing Jezebel’s arm closed to her. She crouched down, with the gun still trained on Jezebel, and quickly turned over Jezebel’s arm.

“Cròtrùh.” Anisa read with a pretty peeved expression.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“It means it doesn’t matter if we baptise her now.” Anisa answered. “She’s stuck here until she dies or someone kills her.”

That stopped Sam in the middle of the baptism. “How do you know that?”

“Cròtrùh, it means ‘blood traitor’; she killed someone in her family and was banished _here_ as punishment. They took another baby as reparation. So even if she dies, that person isn’t ever coming back. They won’t let them go.”

Jezebel turned her head and croaked out in a resonating voice, “Still miss Jaden, do you?”

To Anisa’s credit, she didn’t blink, didn’t snap, and didn’t do anything for a few minutes. And that was just fucking unnerving.

“So who did you kill to get booted out?” Anisa paused before she said, “Must have been your mother… wasn’t it?”

Jezebel’s face contorted once more and she started muttering. Anisa barked out ‘crìosdaidh’ again and shut Jezebel up.

“We’re not going to get anything out of her,” Dean said as he got up from Jezebel’s legs.

Sam sighed as Dean held out a hand, and let himself be helped up. Jezebel was just lying on the ground, looking dazed and lethargic. They glanced at Anisa, who still kept the rifle trained on Jezebel.

“Think you can get anything else out of her?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Sam paused for a moment. “Maybe if we stopped for a bit, asked her.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a great idea. We’ll wait for the changeling with a libido from hell and a thing for me to sober the fuck up.”

Sam pursed his lips and Dean found himself facing the bitchface once more. This definitely wasn’t how Dean envisioned this going. There was supposed to be a lot more blood, swearing, and oh yeah, pretty much over by now.

“Well, then we could – ”

“Brùth!”

The word took Dean by surprise, as did the sudden force that knocked on the shoulders and down to the ground. The same happened to Sam and Anisa. When he looked up, he saw Jezebel scrambling to her feet and bolting for the high grass. He also saw Anisa swear from the ground, grab the rifle and aim.

When Anisa fired, Jezebel was only a few yards from the grass. She dropped like a rock, howling in pain and spitting out what had to be profanities in that fluid tongue once more. Dean got up, helped Sam up and dusted himself off, leaving Sam to help Anisa up. From the look of it, Anisa had managed to get her in the knee and effectively limit the thing’s ability to bolt for it.

“Well Sammy? Think she still wants to talk.”

Sam didn’t look too thrilled, but he looked a bit resigned. “Guess not.”

“She’s got nothing left to lose now,” Anisa said simply.

“So we put her out of her misery. Then everyone’s happy.” Dean said with a shrug, as he reached for his handgun.

“You don’t need to put it like that Dean.” Sam said.

“Oh, okay. We’ll just go over there where’s she bleeding, hold her hand, say she’s brave and nothing horrible waits on the other side for her. How’s that? Touchy-feely emo enough for you?”

Another gunshot report echoed again, and Dean and Sam looked over to see Jezebel toppling back to the ground, blood and gore seeping from the hole in her head.

“There. No you don’t have to bitch about it. It’s done, she’s dead, can you two just finish up? Yeesh, most goddamn fucking unprofessional thing I’ve ever seen. Arguing about who does what and the ethics of it, in the middle of it all…”

Sam stared at Anisa as she stomped past them to the house. Dean glanced at Sam and then headed over to Jezebel. Yup, one shot to the knee and one right to the head. He heard Sam come to a stop behind him, just radiating disapproval.

‘It didn’t have to end like this.” Sam finally said.

Dean thought about saying something otherwise, but opted not to. It was too damned obvious anyway. “Okay Samantha.”

“This isn’t funny Dean.” Sam said.

“Didn’t see me laughing did you?”

Dean was half expecting Sam to say something about him laughing on the inside but it never came.

“Don’t know who I’m kidding.” Sam muttered a few moments later. “This pretty much would have happened anyways.”

Dean turned to say something but the sound of the porch door opening made him look back to the house. Anisa and Merle were coming out now. Merle had a large, wicked looking machete in one hand and Anisa carried everything needed for a bonfire. Oh yeah, Dean knew where this was going.

“So we’ve got one dead dearg-dul on our hands.” Merle stated.

“A dearg-dul?” Sam echoed.

“Yeah, a type of changeling, in the technical sense.” Dean shrugged. “Heard they were a pain in an ass, and more of a vampire than a changeling… succubus whatever the hell it is.”

“A type of Irish vampire, more fey than human; they feed mainly off blood but I’m guessing this one chose sex to get what she wanted,” Merle said as she motioned to Anisa where to dump the bonfire supplies.

“How long have you known this?” Sam asked.

“Once I heard that damn shriek. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fought one of the things. But they’re a pig to identify because they can masquerade as something else so damned well. Now,” she held out the machete. “Who wants the honours?”

____________________________________

Dean groaned and shifted, opening his eyes slightly. This hadn’t been the first time he’d stayed up for a day straight, but it was the first one where he felt so tired he’d fall asleep wherever.

After they’d burned the changeling, they headed back into town for lunch… he hadn’t expected Anisa to eat enough for four people, put both him and Sam to shame in the process and damn near clean out his wallet. But she fixed up the Impala for them, no cost, and set them up with enough food for a few days. Dean was looking forward to eating something that actually came from something relatively unprocessed.

When they’d left Wooster the same evening, Anisa had been at Merle’s being put through her paces. Dean had no idea what their next meeting would be like and didn’t care to entertain the idea. If she picked up on Merle’s sense of humour…

They were heading over to Arizona; there were reports of people disappearing and some eight foot tall skeletons luring people away. Didn’t help that the peoples’ bones were found the next day, stripped and with bite marks on them.

He’d managed to stay up until they got to Chinle, just inside of Arizona. They still had a day to get to the town where the sightings were. All Dean knew was that he was beat and that when they checked into a small motel for the night, he was out like a light when he hit that mattress. Didn’t even check to see if they had magic fingers.

And as he looked outside now, he could see that it was evening. He rarely slept the day away, but when he did, he knew he could count on Sam to hold the fort down. And speaking of Sam, where the hell was he?

Dean shifted to get up from bed, and felt a tugging on his right wrist. Puzzled he looked up to find it handcuffed to the headboard.

“What the fuck?” he swore and he reached down under the covers to retrieve the pick hidden in his jeans.

Only his hand met bare skin. He whipped the covers back to find that he’d been stripped naked. Okay, someone was going to die for this.

“Sammy!” Dean hollered. “What the fuck is going on?”

The bathroom door opened and Sam walked out. Dean was about to cuss him out, but all thoughts of calling Sam, ‘bitch of the century’ vanished when he saw what Sam was wearing. Those black leather pants hugged Sam’s legs and ass far too well, displaying muscle and length. The fly was undone but, revealing a trail of hair that grew thicker as it descended. Sam was shirtless as well, and in his hand was the blue dildo.

“You, Mr Winchester,” Sam purred as he walked over. “Have been a very bad boy. You’ve got one chance to apologise.”

Dean watched as Sam stopped beside the bed, looking at him hungrily. “And if I don’t want to?”

Sam smirked and leaned down, slowly running the tip of the dildo up one of Dean’s legs and his cock. Holy shit, that sent all the right signals to both of Dean’s respective brains.

“Then your safe word is ghostbuster.” Sam murmured.

“Good. Then fuck you bitch.”

Sam smiled, and leaned down to kiss Dean hard. By the time Sam pulled back, Dean’s lips were tingling, swollen and he was squirming against the bed, wishing there was some sort of stimulation for his cock.

“Good boy,” Sam whispered as he ran his hand down Dean’s neck. “But you still need to be taught a lesson.”

Dean was all for that.

 

____________________________________


End file.
